


Resurrection

by PolarGrizz47



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Demons, M/M, Resurrection, Temporary Character Death, Vampires, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 00:14:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12399162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolarGrizz47/pseuds/PolarGrizz47
Summary: Jesse McCree had fallen in a foolish attempt to save a village from being overrun by the evils of the land, but his death doesn't have to be written in stone...





	1. The Hunter Has Fallen

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory Halloween fic.

The blood was everywhere, painting a cruel display of what fate had befallen the hunter. His hat was lying on the ground next to him, coat torn to shreds at the bottom, and his hand still clenched desperately around his trusted revolver. Several shell casings littered the area, a testament to his final stand outside of the old church. He’d given the townsfolk enough time to flee from the rear entrance before their town was overrun by the evils of the land.

His other arm was a mess of torn flesh and bone, and Hanzo wondered how he’d even been able to stand with all the slices he bore across his skin. Surely, he was in agony, only pushing himself for the betterment of others.

Such selflessness had intrigued and inspired him before, but now it only served to fill Hanzo with a concoction of simmering anger and sorrow.

Lesser demons and other creatures of the night were left in various states of decay across the cobblestone, some had been turned to ash upon their death. Hanzo felt the putrid blood of his previous enemies soaking through his clothes, staining the white in a mixture of black and crimson. It brought him no joy to slay his own kind, but he had only felt fury in his heart. His brother would’ve scolded him for being so reckless. But his wounds would heal.

Slowly, the demon came to a stop in the carnage, his bow and arrow fading into a pale mist as he lowered his hands. Creatures and people alike had been slain in the skirmish, several unfortunate townsfolk were sprawled out in the streets with vibrant red etching through the old stone.

McCree was a foolish man, desperate to save people wherever possible. He’d spent too much time around the old vampires, who had dedicated their human lives to justice and victory. Unlike them, he was not immortal.

In the soft glow of the moonlight, Hanzo could see that McCree died with his eyes open.

“Jesse,” Hanzo whispered, voice urgent but understanding. His clawed hand gently landed on the hunter’s shoulder, and he pulled the gunslinger closer with a low growl. “You fool,” He struggled to get out, letting his nails pierce the leather of his jacket if only briefly in his sorrow. “You should have called for me earlier.”

Hanging his head, the archer closed his eyes and held McCree gently, supporting his head with one hand and his back with the other. He was cold. He’d been dead for a few hours now throughout the battle. The smell of death was upon him, acidic and brittle.

Hanzo had felt the man’s death like a _snap_ of a wire in his chest, painful and lashing. It had been many, many years since he’d let himself befriend a human.

Since he’d let himself love...

Their bond was still strong, singing with leftover energy but it would eventually fade into nothingness, and Hanzo would be left alone once more. Pale eyes narrowed and the demon snarled, feeling his fangs lengthen beyond his lips, curving his features if only slightly. “You damned  _fool_ ,” He repeated, voice hissing with overwhelming sorrow and rage.

Several minutes were spent holding the gunslinger gently, bowed over his form with hushed promises slipping from his mouth in an ancient tongue. He could feel the bond he’d created with Jesse slowly slipping away, wearing heavily on his mind.

It was over…

-:-

Reluctantly, Hanzo had left Jesse’s body lying on the bloodied cobblestone as he searched for an appropriate cover for his friend. Something he could be wrapped in as Hanzo transported him to be buried.

The demon had found the perfect drape in the church, a red, frayed serape left hanging on one of the old wooden pews. He felt no pain when entering the ‘holy ground’ but Hanzo couldn’t bring himself to smile at the silly belief of safety the humans had devised themselves through religion.

His sorrow cuts deeply, and the archer knew that he would vanish for a long while once McCree was buried. He would guard the grave for the rest of his days from the shadows.

As he folded the serape over his arm, the demon paused, his body filled with a new sense of unease. He was not alone, he could feel the tension in the air. As if on cue, the temperature dropped with a whispering of tongues from outside.

His bow was easily formed back in his hands, and Hanzo snarled as he slipped out onto the steps of the church, an arrow notched and at the ready. “Step back,” He warned, voice dripping with venom as he eyed the newcomer. I did not take the demon long to recognize the familiar figure, “ _Reaper_ , he is mine.”

The white-masked vampire was crouched by McCree, shaking his head as he let his gloved fingertips close the hunter’s half-lidded gaze. “I know,” The man’s voice curled and warped like the smoke that licked out from his body, growling in such a way that only an undead man could muster. “I merely came to see for myself. I felt an… emptiness.”

Hanzo kept his arrow trained on the vampire until Reaper had given Jesse’s body more space, the demon walking closer with a gnashing of his teeth. “You put ideas of legends into a mortal’s mind, he pursued this because of you -”

“He was always a hero in his own right, he knew what he was getting into,” Reyes countered, arms crossed. “Do not pin this on me.”

“He was a _mortal_ , he is not like you and I. You knew this,” Hanzo let the bow vanish from his fingers in a pale mist, left clutching the serape close instead of his weapon. “Now he has fallen.” He sat beside McCree on his knees, lovingly covering his body with the red material. He paused as he got to the gunslinger’s head, fingertips gently brushing aside his long hair as he stared at the man he’d come to know deeply. He looked pale, eyes sunken slightly and lips blue. It was not a look he ever wished to see Jesse wear.

Reaper was silent throughout the ordeal, watching as the demon folded the large serape around the hunter’s body, placing McCree's hat atop his chest and the revolver back in its rightful holster. The blood had already begun to stain through the frayed fabric.

Before his eyes, Hanzo seemed to slightly grow in size, horns sprouting from his forehead and curling upwards while his nails lengthened into small claws. The demon easily picked the body up from the ground, cradling him close protectively. “I am taking him,” Hanzo said, his serious and sorrowful tone leaving room for little argument.

Gabriel couldn’t help but see some of himself in that, carrying his lover off the battlefield while they were torn to shreds. He could still remember digging Jack desperately from that rubble, shouting until his throat was sore and clawing at the heavy stone until his fingertips bled. The vampire could still recount rocking Jack’s limp body back and forth in the decay of war around them. He had been dead too long to turn. There was nothing left to salvage from his lover's ravaged body.

It was how he began his curse,  _their_ curse.

An angel masked in the form of a witch, a wish granter for the price of servitude.

For the Reaper, there was no price too high when it came to those honest blue eyes. He would've given up the stars just to see Jack smile again.

“Wait,” He whispered, dropping his hands and taking a step forwards. “It… may not be too late to save him.”

Hanzo froze, posture stiffened as he growled. “You cannot turn him, he is already cold -”

“The _Witch_ of the Wilds,” Reyes intoned carefully, “She has saved someone I care deeply about in the past. Perhaps… you two could come to some agreement.”

For a long moment, the demon was silent, standing there staring at the blood seeping through the serape. McCree’s dead weight felt like a curse, and he couldn’t help but to imagine seeing the human breath again, see him laugh, see him smile…

“If I was to consider this… how do I find her?” Hanzo asked quietly, holding Jesse that much tighter.

“You do not find her,” The Reaper’s body was already vanishing in a purple mist, “She finds you.” With that, the vampire had vacated the scene, leaving nothing but whispering ideas in Hanzo’s mind.

The demon was left standing in a battlefield painted with gore and bullets, clutching the only man who had won his ancient heart.


	2. The Witch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmmmmm thought I'd post this. I'll write the ritual in the next chapter.

_ McCree breathed in a deep lungful of the sweet smelling smoke, letting it settle in his mouth before he blew out slowly, the tendrils of it reaching the old ceiling in the cabin. He was seated on the bed, working on making sure his gear was complete. The shivering sound of metal on his spurs sang throughout the quiet, dusty home. His crossbow was sitting on the worn table by the door, arrows and a handful of silver bullets left carelessly strewn there. The long coat hung by the door, curved at the ends and surely quite the impressive sight when he strode out into the night to hunt the beasts that plagued the world. _

_ Hanzo had thought that it looked even better billowing out behind him as he rode by on a dappled mare. Jesse was an impressive hunter, he’d slain fearsome foes and outwitted sinful demons in the past.  _

But one man could only stand against so many beasts for so long. 

The demon could still remember helping the human tie his hair back, smoothing his fingertips gently over the gunslinger’s warm skin, keeping him close in the nights where their company was uninterrupted.

He could still picture his twin spirit dragons slowly slipping from his skin to explore the hunter, gently brushing against the man as he slept by Hanzo’s side. It was then that Hanzo could recall being in some sort of total peace. 

Those memories were almost a cruel reminder as the man walked up the old, dirt trodden path. 

When Hanzo slowly pushed open the old wooden door with his shoulder, he listened to it creak and peered into the cold atmosphere of their little cabin. The candles and lanterns were unlit, and the demon couldn’t bring himself to care. The darkness seemed fitting, for he couldn’t stand to see Jesse’s wounds in such a plain light.

A testament to his failure to keep close. To defend what he should’ve cherished.

He walked across the old wood and gently deposited Jesse onto the bed, uncaring if the worn sheets got stained. He would probably bury the man in the extra linens, just to ensure that his eternal rest would offer some comfort.

The demon crouched beside Jesse’s side, taking his pale, cold hand and bringing the knuckles to his lips. “I am sorry,” His voice caressed gently across the waxy skin, and Hanzo squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

Strong emotions such as sorrow were things the demon never handled well. He could only remember feeling so devastated when his brother fell by his own blade. This was just as painful, his dragons felt like they were ready to tear themselves apart in their own vengeful rage.

Perhaps what stung the most was the lack of an enemy. Jesse had been torn apart by many beasts, and Hanzo could not pinpoint which one to take out his wrath on. 

He felt like he would be stuck for the rest of his days in a hunting cycle, slaying many beasts in the name of hunter that was dead before him.

Right now, he was too tired to try and hunt them all down. McCree deserved to be buried, but he hesitated, sitting beside the body of his lover as the Reaper’s words curled around his mind like smoke.

Could he really bring back McCree into the land of the living? Was it right to do so, if Jesse would only eventually die once more? Wouldn’t it just be prolonging his own sorrow?

Was he being selfish?

He reached out and grabbed the gunslinger’s hat, worrying the edges with his clawed fingertips as he let the familiar scent of Jesse soothe his mind somewhat.

Hanzo was comfortable in the darkness, and as he sat there, he let himself toy with the idea of hearing Jesse chuckle once more.

-:-

Jack was preparing a fragile cup of blood for his mate, his chest tight as he felt Gabriel’s sorrow. They both had known that Jesse was going to get in over his head at some point.

The blond felt the elder vampire’s presence like a cloak in the room, and he didn’t even have to turn to regard Reyes. “Jesse?” He questioned instead, already knowing the answer.

“He fell,” Gabriel answered gruffly, reaching out to smooth his hands over Jack’s broad shoulders. “Hanzo reminded me of…  _ us _ ,” His red eyes narrowed behind his mask, and he paused to reach up and unclasped the cover from his face. He set it aside carelessly, instead focusing on burying his nose into Jack’s throat, holding him from behind. “The demon looked genuinely upset. He wouldn’t let me get a good look at Jesse, but from what I could see...”

“I know you two were close,” Jack whispered, linking his fingers with Reye’s where they rested on his hip. “It wasn’t your fault, Gabe.”

“Was it not?” His words were soft and guilty, plaguing Jack’s thoughts. “Hanzo reminded me of our… stories.”

“Even we could not have predicted what that town would hold for him,” Jack turned to face Gabriel, still holding his hand close. “He took that risk.”

Those red eyes narrowed slightly, struggling with the strange emotions that settled tightly in his throat. Perhaps Hanzo was right… maybe he  _ was _ responsible. Maybe he wasn’t. It wasn’t his place to judge.

“I’m not so sure,” Reyes finally managed, pulling Jack a step closer just to feel his mate’s body, trying to ground himself. He wrapped his free arm around the younger vampire’s shoulders, pulling him closer to sniff at his throat again, remind himself that his lover was still alright. 

Was still there. 

Memories of Jack’s mortal frame battered and crushed flashed across his mind, and the Reaper rumbled with displeasure, slowly kissing his way up Jack’s throat, lingering at the bite mark there that had scarred. 

The younger vampire shivered in his grip, hands clenching into the back of Gabriel’s small cape attached to his long leather jacket. Jack pressed their foreheads together, looking deep into his lover’s red eyes with caring baby blues. “This wasn’t your fault, Gabe.”

“It still aches,” Reyes admitted, curling his jaw around Morrison’s throat, brushing his scent there. “The human may walk again, though…”

Jack pulled back slightly, his brows furrowed. “Walk again - you mean the demon would make a deal?”

“Perhaps,” The vampire shrugged, looking over his lover’s pale frame, the circles under his eyes. “You need to drink, Jack. Let us discuss this later when we are both fulfilled.” With that, he took one of Jack’s bare hands in his own leather-clad one and pressed a kiss to his mate’s knuckles before slowly leading him back into the den area of their home. “We shall speak of the witch and her doings later. Allow me to care for my mate for now, mhm?”

“Well,” Jack smiled slyly, letting himself fall back into the pillowed couch when his legs hit the back of it. “I suppose.”

-:-

Hanzo was still sitting by the bed with his head bowed deeply. He was just beginning to toy with the idea of digging a hole when suddenly the entire room lit up, every candle and lantern was now aflame. The demon’s hairs stood on end and he got to his feet instantly, bow in hand and fangs lengthened as he snarled, “Who dares to enter  _ our _ abode?”

The dragons curled inside his veins, itching to be released. His hands shifted around the bow, and he drew the arrow back tightly with narrowed pale eyes. 

There was a soft chuckle, sounding playful and light. “Is that really any way to welcome a guest?” A feminine voice asked, and the demon merely growled in response. “A little birdie told me you were in the business of making deals… they didn’t tell me that you were a demon, though,” The woman revealed herself, standing in the doorway with her hands empty and her smile grim.

Blue eyes landed on the body of Jesse on the bed, and she hummed in understanding when Hanzo stood in her field of vision, apparently still protective of a cold body. 

By her appearances, the hat and the older garb, the demon knew what she was immediately. “ _ Witch _ ,” He hissed, “I do not make deals with enchantresses.” He lifted his arrow, watching her closely. “What is your name, witch?”

“I am the Witch of the Wilds,” She introduced with a flourish of her hands, her blond hair shining in the light of the candles as she bowed. “I assume I need no further introduction.”

With his eyes still trained on the woman in their home, Hanzo ground out, “The Reaper told me of your sorcery… but Jesse has been dead - he is badly injured -”

“No task is too big for me,” The witch nodded her head towards the body. “The ritual is all-encompassing -”

“Ritual?” Hanzo growled, rumbling with displeasure at the thought of performing such an act on McCree when he was so helpless.

“The resurrection ritual,” She nodded at the book tied to her hip, the words  _ ‘Vitae’ _ glaring out at Hanzo. “It would be no problem to make him draw breath again.”

“And once he’s back, how long until you kill him for personal gain?” Hanzo accused, his stance still rigid but his hands relaxing slightly around the weapon. She wasn’t approaching him, merely talking with a calm air about her, like she  _ knew _ that he wasn’t willing to stick an arrow into her body.

The witch shook her head, “It depends on the deal… if I am to return him to his mortal state, he would live until his natural death returned. It may be years from now or mere days. One can never be too sure in this world we live in,” She explained, smoothing her gloved hands down her dress, vanishing out the creases if only temporary. 

Those pale eyes softened some with understanding, but she could feel the hesitation on the air. “This of course… comes at a price,” The witch whispered seriously, tipping her head slightly to the left.

“A price?” The demon asked, shaking his head as he glanced over at McCree, seeing his limp hand hanging off the bed from where he’d dropped it earlier in his scramble. “How steep is the toll, witch?”

“I have never made a deal with a demon before,” She informed, mostly to herself. “The Reaper is bound to me, to serve me whenever I may call him.”

“Bound to you?” The demon felt his dragon’s quiver with dislike at the idea, being stuck to her for the foreseeable future. 

“When I call, he must arrive. He helps me fight, collect dues… It’s quite simple. And you seem quite skilled for the job,” Those blue eyes kept glancing over his shoulder towards Jesse, looking at the blood and the wounds that lie sprawled out before her. “As a demon, I am not sure how long I can hold you -”

“This contract of yours, how long would you keep me bound? How long have you kept the Reaper bound?” Hanzo lowered his weapon, keeping it in his hands, just in case she ended up presenting a threat. 

She seemed to ignore the question about Gabriel Reyes, merely cutting to the chase with a sharp answer. “For Jesse McCree, I would keep you bound until his mortal life ended,” Those damned lips curled into a smile, “Surely, that is just a drop in the bucket for your lifespan, demon?”

Hanzo did not answer her, his gaze was drawn to Jesse again, looking over his lover’s battered body with a heavy feeling in his chest. Life felt so dull without McCree already, and he knew that the sorrow would weigh heavily on him for many, many years. He may not even fully recover from it. 

The dragons inside of him seemed to thrum with many ideas, many worries, and hopes. They craved to join once more with Jesse, to solidify the fading bond and make it stronger than metal or stone. 

But servitude was something the demon had never considered a possibility in his life until now… 

“Tell me, demon. Do we have a deal?” The witch held out her hand, her expression soft but her gaze was determined. 

Hanzo let the bow and arrow fade from his claws as he stepped forwards, warring with himself. With one final look at Jesse on the bed, the ancient demon raised his hand with a slithering of tongues as he snarled, “We do, witch. But cross us, and I  _ will _ take my revenge upon you.”

She brushed his fingers gently against Hanzo’s, feeling his energy flowing so familiarly, something she had dealt with before. “I expect nothing less from a demon.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) Hope ya'lls like. Comments highly wanted <3

**Author's Note:**

> Comments highly appreciated, keeps me motivated to add more chapters quickly! I hope to have the new chapter out soon. :)
> 
> Gabriel was turned into a vampire before Jack's death and was unable to save Jack by himself. Mercy grants him Jack's life, if only briefly (per their agreement), and he changes the soldier for himself. They're both still in their younger forms, Gabe has long hair flowing, wavy vampire hair. Jack is now a vampire, sired from Gabe. They have been together for many years.
> 
> Demon Hanzo was born that way, he and his brother are the only two from his clan to control the dragons brewing inside them (besides their parents). McCree is a monster hunter, only hunting beasts who cause havoc for townsfolk. He makes a decent living. He ran into Demon Hanzo years ago, when he was a younger man. After a brief battle, they had come to an understanding. They were in a relationship before McCree's death, their bond is a spiritual connection that the dragons make when they feel most at peace around somebody.


End file.
